First Time
by dietgreentea
Summary: The first time with her wasn't the first time he was with someone, but it was definitely the first time it really meant something. He knew he loved her (he was just too terrified to say it). - Series of one shots (and fluff. lots of fluff.)
1. Chapter 1

The first time he saw her, he truthfully wasn't trying to stare. He was singing in the car and just happened to look out the window. It was an accident, really. But there she was, this random girl, eyeing him oddly as he sang out the window, playing air guitar in the backseat of his parents' car.

* * *

The first time he spoke to her was a couple days after the first time he saw her. He arrived barely on time to the radio station (Luke said he was late, but he swears he wasn't), and walked up to her with a grin. He truthfully wasn't trying to stare (again), but he couldn't help it.

The first words he said to her were, "Hey, I know you!" He was going to charm her off her feet.

"No you don't." Okay. Maybe not.

"Yeah I do!"

"He doesn't."

"Totally know her."

He could tell they would be best friends (and/or lovers).

* * *

The first time he heard her sing was at the a capella auditions.

Who picks Kelly Clarkson? Seriously. That girl's got some crazy vocal range. It was a bit painful to hit those notes. But that's a digression.

He wasn't worried about his audition. Organized nerd singing was going to be his thing, he could tell. He was on his way out when she arrived. He was surprised to see her there. She didn't seem like the type of girl who liked a cappela… or people (given that he could barely get her to speak to him whenever he saw her at the radio station. Of course that didn't stop him from trying). He wasn't trying to stare (again… again). He was already beyond intrigued by her, but the way she sang? It made his heart flutter.

* * *

The first time he had a drink with her (okay, those were loose terms. It was more like he was drinking/tipsy/drunk and she happened to be near him) was aca-initiation night. His judgment may or may not have been impaired when he saw her. He wasn't sure what possessed him to caw her name ("Beca! Beca! Becawwww! Becawww!") or explain to her how she was going to have his children ("You're one of those a cappella girls. I'm one of those a capella boys. And we're going to have aca-children. It's inevitable."). He just knew that his heart started fluttering again as she playfully shoved him (he wasn't drunk, she was blurry). He would've liked Benji to be there celebrating with him, but he had to admit, spending time with her was all he really wanted to do.

* * *

The first time he really made her smile was also the first time he saw Luke's abs. That wasn't on his bucket list, Luke's abs. He wasn't sure he liked Luke. Or the way Luke looked at her. Or the way she looked at Luke. Stupid Luke. He wasn't jealous. Not even a little bit. This may or may not have also been the first time he felt jealousy involve her… He wasn't about to admit it or anything.

* * *

The first time he sat with her at her spot (though later it would be _their_ spot) was the day of the riff-off. He was trying to be cute with the towel, the candle, the pretzels, the juice pouches, and the movies. He wasn't sure if it was coming off as endearing or dorky.

"You have juice pouches and Rocky!"

Dorky. Awesome.

But then she said she didn't watch movies. He couldn't emphasize it enough. Who doesn't like movies?! The movi-cation was on. It was on like Donkey Kong. (Who came up with that saying, anyway?) He also may or may not have been using the movi-cation as an excuse to spend more time with her. It was an ingenious idea, if he said so himself.

* * *

The first time he admitted to himself that he really liked her was the night of the riff-off. He was going to take her down (she didn't care), and remind her of it on a daily basis (she still didn't care). She seemed unsure of everything that was going on, hiding quietly behind her walls that he was trying so hard to break down. He was going to win her over with his badass voice (was singing about the "first time" too forward? He wasn't sure. He was pretty sure he didn't care, though), and she even blew him a little kiss (albeit, laced with sarcasm). Yeah, he was going to win this.

And then she interrupted him. With rap? Was she rapping?

He wasn't trying to stare (again again… again. Whatever. He was pretty sure he stared all the time now). He couldn't help it. This little spitfire of a girl was amazing (he was going to break through those walls, dammit). He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, and he was pretty sure that she would consume his life if he wasn't careful.

* * *

The first time she let him listen to one of her mixes was also the first time they watched a movie together… and the first time he almost kissed her… and the first time she blew him off. He wasn't proud of the last two.

He hadn't stopped flirting with her at the radio station. He did everything he could to get her attention. He loved making her smile, making her laugh, getting her to look at him with those eyes. He thought he was making progress, too. She was slowly opening up to him.

"So what's on all those USB sticks you've been giving Luke?" Okay. So he was a little jealous of Luke. Are you happy now?

"What about Luke?" She hadn't been paying attention to him. She was standing beside him in front of one of the shelves, reading the back of one of the millions of records they had to sort. How did this radio station constantly have records to sort? You'd think they'd have everything in order after all these years. Was Luke rearranging everything for shits and giggles? He was pretty sure Luke was secretly trying to ruin his life…

"You've been giving Luke a USB drive almost every week."

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Stalker."

"You've found me out! I couldn't help myself. Luke is just so dreamy. Have you seen his abs? Oh. Wait," he deadpanned.

She rolled his eyes at him and put another record away. "They're mixes."

"You have such a way with words." He moved a little behind her and put a record away on a shelf above her head, gently knocking her head playfully with his elbow. She glared up at him and elbowed him in the stomach. "Ow."

She smiled.

Worth it.

"So what kind of mixes?"

She sighed and moved away from him. "Music mixes. I want to be a DJ. Music is just… it gets me, you know?" Of course he did. It's why he wanted to score movies. But they'd already had that discussion, and he wasn't about to interrupt her, so he just nodded. "I just love mixing songs that don't really belong together. Different genre, different beat. Doesn't really matter. Once you find the right combination, it sounds awesome. Gives a real sense of accomplishment." He was pretty sure they were a different genre and a different beat. He wondered if she could see them like songs that don't belong together and see if they could be mixed together just right (no, not like that, okay? Sure, he was a teenage guy, but it was more than that).

"Can I listen?"

She blinked back surprise. "Uhh… sure. I guess."

And that's how he ended up in her dorm room, listening to one of her mixes (it really was awesome), sitting on her bed (it smelled like her. How do girls smell so sweet and innocent?), getting shot down (that sucked. He didn't want to get into it).

At least he sort of watched _The Breakfast Club _with her (or not really, since it was only the ending for all of what… 30 seconds?) before Kimmy Jin stalked in with her crew and their judging eyes.

Didn't matter either way. He tried to kiss her and she turned away. His heart thudded painfully in his chest as he walked solemnly back to his dorm.

She didn't bring it up when he saw her the next day. He thought that might be a good idea.

Two steps forward, three steps back.

* * *

The first time he caught her staring was at regionals. He saw her at the back of the auditorium smiling at him. No matter how hard she tried to hide that smile, he saw it. He gave himself a mental fist bump and rocked his best sexy-move. That's right. He had a sexy-move. Don't judge.

Now what happened after regionals was a whole number of unwanted firsts. There was that crazy dude (who was pretty much a masochist as far as he could tell) who accosted him. No thanks. He didn't want anything to do with that. Then she came in to defend him. Was he the princess in the castle, waiting to be rescued? (I'm sorry, but your princess is another castle.) She actually punched the guy (he made a mental note to try not to get on her bad side), and it would have been kind of romantic (sort of?) if it wasn't for the fact that she then was arrested.

To recap: first time he won regionals; first time he met guy who asked to be punched; first time a girl punched a guy (for him, nonetheless); first time he had to figure out how to bail a friend out of jail. It wasn't a good night. To make matters worse, he called her (apparently distant) father to do the actual bailing, which caused the most awkward (and longest) car ride known to man. This was right after she ever-so-kindly reminded him that he wasn't her boyfriend.

Got it.

The cherry on top was the fact that she refused to speak to him for a week. How was he the bad guy? He was pretty sure he was helping her. He stared at his phone, unsure of what to do. He texted an apology for calling her father (_didn't know how you felt about your dad. didn't know what else to do. sorry_). He tried texting her random movie trivia (_movie fact of the day: star wars was supposed to be standalone! imagine, just ONE star wars movie! benji's panicking at the thought_). He even asked her out for lunch (_burgers before radio station? can even bring luke one. maybe he'll like me more ;)_). No response.

She actually swapped shifts at the radio station with another intern. His heart fell to the floor when Luke told him (not to mention, the other intern was kind of smelly). His stomach churned uncomfortably. He missed seeing her. Now he felt semi-masochistic. She constantly rejected him, but all he wanted to do was spend time with her. He was about to give up, but there she was a week later, giving him some excuse about being really busy last week. She didn't bring up regionals, so he let it slide. Again. As he usually did. He could tell she felt bad since she held back the sarcasm the entire day. He wasn't going to push his luck, so he let it be. They eventually fell back into their normal rhythm, which, of course, didn't last long.

Why was he such a glutton for punishment?

* * *

The first time she made him feel like the shit you find on the bottom of your shoe was at the semi-finals. It didn't help that earlier that morning, Luke was praising her mixes, and she smiled at Luke. That smile should have been for him. It was infuriating. He was the one that listened to her mixes first (not to mention, he'd been the one that convinced Luke to play it to begin with). Like Luke actually deserved her smile. Luke, with his abs of steel, and his upper classman-ness.

Whatever. It didn't matter, anyway. He was done with her at this point.

At least that's what he told himself.

She had screamed at him to back off, and he wasn't sure how much further back he could go. She stormed off and dragged his aching heart with her, leaving him with a gaping hole where his heart should be.

Wasn't she the one that tried to save him from the crazy guy at regionals? It wasn't like he was trying to do anything but point out the fact that they weren't sleeping together. They weren't. Seriously. Not even a little bit. She wouldn't even kiss him.

That was also the first time she walked away from him.

* * *

The first time she apologized was also the first time he rejected her. She was at his door, mumbling some apology, but he couldn't do it anymore. Months he had tried to win her over. Months he had tried to get her to open her up, to show her that life wasn't as bad as she made it out to be. He made daily goals to make her laugh, make her smile, find out things that she enjoyed. He would have done almost anything for her.

She had actually sent him texts all through spring break. Texts that made him laugh (_hey weirdo, found used condoms in the booth. wtf?! i feel gross_) and texts that broke his heart all over again (_you'll never believe me… but i watched the breakfast club :)_). He refused to respond. He couldn't deal with the number of times she pushed him away. He wasn't sure he could deal with her breaking his heart again. So he sent her away and shut the door.

His heart spasmed painfully as if it was admonishing him for his poor decision making skills. He silently agreed with it.

* * *

The first time she sang to him was the night he lost the ICCA's. He'd lose it all over it again to see her smile at him like no one else was watching. Her eyes were bright as she stared at him from the stage, and his heart skipped a beat. It gave him hope. Hope for them. They had a chance. If she was willing to sing this to him in front of all these people, they had a chance.

And when she kissed him for the first time, he knew he was done. He would make it his life goal to make this girl happy.


	2. Chapter 2

The first time she opened up to him was the night he lost the ICCA's. He didn't feel like he'd lost; he felt like he was on top of the world. They had spent the entire night sitting on the floor in the hallway, discussing their hopes and dreams, their fears of the unknown, their lives growing up, his favorite movies, her favorite songs. They talked until the sun rose. He would remind her of that night whenever they hit a bump in the road.

Everyone had just arrived at the hotel after leaving Lincoln Center. The hotel had blocked off an entire hall (or two or three) for the various a cappella groups. He wandered down the hallway with a grin on his face. People were running around, singing and laughing. There wasn't any sense of competition as the different schools mingled and partied. Some of them may have lost, but tonight was about having fun. He hoped all of this would convince her to stay at Barden, with her friends (mostly him), instead of moving out to L.A. Maybe he could become a part of her dream.

Donald ran down the hall, accidentally knocking into him and he backed up against the wall. Donald was chasing Stacie (surprise surprise), who was giggling hysterically, spilling the drink in her hand. He shook his head. Wasn't there some stupid rule about the Bellas and the Treblemakers? He paused.

Well. Shit. There was a rule _against_ Treblemakers.

Before he had time to fully process that thought, he felt a light shove against his elbow. He looked over and caught the sight of brunette hair in his peripheral vision.

His heart skipped a beat.

He pretended to look over her head (it wasn't difficult, really) and shrugged. "That's weird. Could've sworn someone nudged me."

She stood up on her tiptoes and flicked him on the forehead.

"Ow! Leprechauns are _mean_!"

"Call me a leprechaun again, and it won't be your forehead that I flick." She smiled sweetly at him (and his heart melted into a pathetic puddle of goop).

"Noted." He had an irresistible urge to kiss her. (Why the hell not? She had kissed him, why couldn't he kiss her?)

So he kissed her (and that would be the first time that _he_ kissed _her_), and he stopped breathing. The second his lips touched hers, it felt like time stood still around them. His entire system was focused on just her; he didn't notice that Stacie and Donald were near them; he didn't notice that Fat Amy was coming down the hall with Chloe and Aubrey in tow; he didn't notice the strangers carrying a keg. All he knew was that she kissed him back, and he was drowning in a sea of emotions (and maybe hormones).

Of course, that was until Fat Amy said (none too quietly, might he add), "Oh good. Are you guys doing something about the eye-sex? Because we're all pretty tired of experiencing it."

He felt Beca push away from him. "Ohmygod, Amy, seriously?" He saw Beca's face flush. He didn't even have time to react. He looked towards them and only saw Aubrey staring at him (Panic. Panic. Panic.). Should he say something? Should he run? Would she throw something at him? She seemed like someone who would throw something at him (or maybe vomit. He'd heard of the vomiting).

Aubrey held his gaze and quirked an eyebrow. There was an awkward silence as Chloe and Fat Amy looked between Aubrey and Jesse. Beca was rolling her eyes and rubbing her face in irritation.

"Amy's right. We've been feeling the sexual tension for months now."

Beca choked. "I'm sorry, what?"

Chloe was beaming. "What Aubrey means to say is that the Treblemakers ban has been lifted!"

"You can feel his toner if you want, youknowhatimsayin'?" Fat Amy winked at Beca.

He was mortified. Completely. Utterly. Mortified. (Could the ground please swallow him now? Please?)

The girls started walking away and he could've sworn he heard Fat Amy mutter something about Bumper. He truthfully didn't care to find out what it was. He just knew he wanted to hide. He leaned his back against the wall and slid down to the floor. He felt her sit down next to him as her right shoulder brushed against his left. The entire left side of his body tingled.

"Holy shit, where the hell did that keg come from?" she muttered.

"What? There's a keg?" (Where the hell did someone get a keg?!).

* * *

The first time he took her out on a proper date was at the start of their sophomore year at Barden. Their freshman year ended in a whirl of finals and goodbyes with barely any time to spend with each other. There was a myriad of phone calls, texts, and skype calls throughout the summer. They were kind of, sort of dating (if you could call it that), but it was overall difficult given the distance. He took the time to break down more of those damn walls she had built up. It was working, for the most part. Sometimes he would push too far, and she'd shut down. He always changed the subject and babbled until she started responding again. He had endless patience when it came to her.

When he arrived on campus, he didn't waste any time running to find her. He tossed his belongings into his room, gave Benji a hug (was that a rabbit on his shoulder?), and raced out the door. He found her out on the grass, already at their (it wasn't just hers anymore) spot. He took a second to really look at her before she noticed him. It had been what felt like three years (okay, so it was only three months) since he'd last seen her. And wasn't she a sight for sore eyes.

"Hey, nerd," he nudged her with his foot. Her eyes actually lit up when she finally saw him (mental self-five!). He felt her in his arms before he saw her move, and he felt like he was whole again.

"Hey, weirdo," she whispered into his neck. It sent shivers down his spine. He stood there holding her, enjoying how her small frame fit against his. He didn't want to move or speak for fear of ruining the moment (another one of those moments he liked to remind her of).

He kissed the top of her head "So—" he cleared his throat. It sounded raspier than he had meant it to. Something about not seeing her in so long did things to his… everything. "So I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight. We could go out for a real dinner instead of grabbing food at the dining hall. I managed to bring my car this year." He dangled his car keys in front of her.

"You mean shitty pizza and shitty fried chicken isn't romantic enough for you?" she asked. God, he'd missed her sarcasm (he would regret that thought later. …Okay, not really. But damn, this girl was snarky sometimes).

"I'll do you one better. I'll take you to McDonald's!"

"Really?! Would you really do that? All for me?! You're the sweetest ever!" She was staring at him with the fakest smile she could manage. He was seriously starting to fall in love with this girl (wait, what?).

"I missed you," he said seriously.

She looked away then back at him (he could drown in those eyes). "Sure, weirdo." He could hear the sincerity in her voice behind the words. She missed him, too.

"So, dinner?" He offered his arm to her after she finished gathering her stuff, and they headed towards his car.

* * *

The first time _with_ her wasn't the first time he was _with_ someone, but it was definitely the first time it really meant something. He knew he loved her (he was just too terrified to say it).

It was a month after school had started. There wasn't even anything special about that day (to begin with). It was a Friday and Benji was going on another trip with some other magicians (at least that's what Benji said) to visit a magic school (Hogwarts? He wanted to go if it was Hogwarts). She had come over after practice with the Bellas to continue movi-cation (which was going well considering she willingly watched _Rocky, Animal House, E.T., _and a bunch of others on her own).

"What are we in the mood for tonight, short stuff?" He was met in response with a pillow to his face. "I'm sorry, would leprechaun be better?" (he was totally going to get it).

"What did I tell you about leprechaun?" She tackled him ("tackled"… he purposely fell backwards as she launched herself at him. C'mon, did you really think she'd be capable of really tackling him?) to the bed (he really wasn't complaining. Not even a little bit.) and sat on his stomach, tickling him mercilessly. He squealed (what?! He does _not_ squeal) in surprise, grabbed her arms, and flipped them over so that he was on top of her, holding her arms above her head (now this was interesting).

They had their fair share of makeout sessions (interrupted occasionally by Fat Amy proclaiming, "Don't stop on my account. I'll just grab some popcorn," which usually caused him to scramble out of the room. Benji usually knocked on the door if he thought Beca might be over), but it must have been the way he looked at her because the laughter melted from her face as she stared back. There was a different look in her eyes than he was used to seeing (did she feel it, too? Did she feel the same way?).

His breath caught in his throat and he let go of her arms, moving his to either side of her head. Her arms wrapped around his neck, bringing him closer to her. "You know I…" he wanted to say it, but he couldn't. He didn't think she was ready to hear it. He was almost certain she understood, anyway, because she kissed him. Even that was different. There was _meaning_ behind it.

They had messed around a little. They even talked about _it_ in jest. He thought he would make a grand gesture one night; take her out to dinner, give her flowers, bust out the candles – but that wasn't her. That wasn't really him, either. Why couldn't a normal movi-cation night be just as meaningful? (Well, of course, it would have whatever meaning he put in it.. and he sure as hell had meaning behind this.)

The kiss set his senses on fire. She was kissing him like he was her only reason for breathing. He'd had dreams of this (he was a teenager, so sue him), but nothing could prepare him for the sensation of _her_. Her hands were in his hair, on his arms, on his back. He kissed her with an ache he didn't know he had. His heart was pounding in his chest, rhythmically beating her name (Be-ca. Be-ca. Be-ca.). His entire being was centered on her, and he couldn't dream of ever being apart.

Her hands bunched on his shirt, and her fingernails met his skin. He breathed out against her cheek, and he felt her grin. "You okay, there?" Her voice was breathy, and his entire body screamed to never let her go (he wouldn't ever dare).

"Yeah. Great. Dandy. Nothing to see here." He wasn't sure how he was forming coherent thoughts (okay, they weren't that coherent).

"Good." And she yanked his shirt over his head.

It didn't take very long before a collection of clothes piled at the foot of his bed. They had long ago stopped talking. Her eyes said everything they needed to say. His toes curled at her every touch, every sigh, every moan. Her breath was on his skin and he felt her everywhere. How was he missing this his entire life? How did he survive without her? Her skin was against his and everywhere she touched, it felt like he was on fire. Her hands were touching him and tickling him, and he was sure he would die from the sensory overload. He had never felt more alive than this moment. He kissed her over and over again, a mantra of "never leave me" going through his mind. She answered each kiss fervently ("be with me always", he thought they said). He ran his hand through her hair, letting it slip through his fingers (how was it so soft? Was it always like this?). He brushed his hand down her arm, feeling the goosebumps run down as he intertwined his fingers with hers.

She said his name just once, and his entire body felt like it was floating in the clouds. He'd died. He was sure of it. (And what a way to go). It took a couple seconds before he had control of his breathing. He felt her kiss his forehead, his cheek, his jaw, his lips.

He smiled as he touched his forehead against hers.

"Nerd," he said breathily ("I love you", he meant).

"Weirdo." She smiled back at him. ("I love you, too.")


End file.
